The Question
by Gun toten Girly
Summary: -Oneshot- There was one question that Artemis dreaded more than death itself.


**The Question**

* * *

**_Domanda_**

"…and so I was thinking—"

A strong knocking at his door made Artemis jump slightly in his seat. Quickly, the raven-haired teen minimized the chat-window. Foaly and Holly's face disappeared and in their place was a document with thousands of words. Artemis blinked to rid himself of the sudden brightness of colors, and repositioned his body as if he had been intensely focused on the window.

"Come in." He murmured.

Butler's massive frame stood in the doorway. His face was pulled into a smile—as if he were desperately trying _not_ to—and led the twins into his bedroom. Artemis felt a smile tug at his lips, but a concerned frown lightly graced his brow when he noticed the twins' expressions. They were scowling greatly—identical looks on both of them—and their body language was that of irritation.

Butler's ears were red, and he was smiling so wide that it looked like it ached. Artemis had never seen Butler embarrassed before, so why was he blushing? It astonished Artemis for a split second, but his attention was drawn to what Butler said.

"They're all yours, Artemis." The bodyguard hurriedly closed the door behind him, leaving Artemis with the two agitated 3 year-olds.

Artemis opened his mouth to speak, but Myles beat him to it.

"Artemis, we haves a question." His tiny, chubby arms were folded across his small chest. Beckett's fists were clenched at his sides.

Artemis nodded. "What is your question? I'm fairly certain I can answer it for you."

Beckett looked sideways at Myles and blurted the question out. Artemis could somehow feel his back muscles pulling taut as the toddler's mouth opened. There was some sort of force that told him whatever was going to happen next, he _definitely_ wouldn't like it.

"Where do babies come from?"

The silence in the room was heavy enough to crush Artemis. He felt his heart stop, and then suddenly burst into hysterics. His usually pale face felt as if it were boiling—his face, cheeks, neck, forehead, _everywhere_ was red.

"Er…" Was Artemis's brilliant answer. How was he supposed to explain this to the twins? Such a complex, _embarrassing_ subject that Artemis had no experience in answering. "That's _not_ a question I can answer—"

Beckett huffed. "Why not?"

Artemis forced a fake smile. "Because, it's impossible for brothers to answer that question. It's against the rules. Only mothers and fathers can."

Myles raised an eyebrow. "But Mommy and Daddy are still in Canada."

Artemis coughed, his panic rising just a notch. Why in the world was he so _nervous_?! He shouldn't even have any emotions towards this subject!

An idea sparked in his mind. Could he block his emotions like he did when he was younger? It would make this conversation go a lot smoother, and without any stutters or idiotic emotions getting in the way.

He knew the answer before he asked the question. His exposure to overemotional beings—Holly, his mother, Foaly, Mulch—had rubbed and grinded at the block wall that held his emotions back, and left it to mere rubble on the ground. He couldn't build that wall in less than three seconds.

He was stuck.

Artemis cleared his throat, tugging on his collar. The room felt thirty times hotter, and the death-glares from his brothers were burning more holes into him.

_So this was why Butler was in a hurry to leave_, he mused, coughing to delay time. Myles and Beckett didn't take notice to Artemis's discomfort. They watched with building anger as Artemis shuffled papers on his oak desk.

"Uh, _well_," Artemis chuckled. This was not who he was! He was someone who could plow through anything with barely a blink, and yet such a simple question—and yet, _not so simple_—almost had him wishing he was at St. Bartleby's than here.

_Almost_.

"Artemis, just answers our question!" Myles shrilled, his tiny voice carrying to unpleasant volumes. Artemis held the cringe back as his eardrums were grated and decided to be as honest as he possibly could.

"Well, you see Myles, _Beckett_; babies come from… their moms."

"Moms?" They both asked.

Artemis chuckled, avoiding eye contact. His face was still blushing red like a fire hydrant, and his fingers couldn't stop moving on the surface of his desk. How could he talk of a subject like this? He knew it was nothing to be embarrassed about—but to know that his parents had to… _perform_ those acts made him a little sick to his stomach. He absolutely knew that if it weren't for those _actions_ none of them would be here.

Still, even to a genius, it was humiliating having to explain it to three year olds.

"But… how do they get there?"

_Oh dear god_, Artemis rubbed at his forehead, a smile spreading on his face. It wasn't the smile of amusement—maybe just a _tad_—or the grin of apprehension, it was the smile of disbelief. Was this seriously happening to him? Why had he not prepared for this moment? Every middle-class couple arranges to explain to their children about the… _birds and the bees_, he supposed. They weren't Irish masterminds: they were normal, average, everyday people, and yet they had more brains to prepare for this than Artemis did.

His ego took quite a dip.

"Well, you see, they get there by… dads."

The twins never looked more confused than they did now.

Artemis decided to explain everything.

Only 3-year-old proof.

* * *

The twins walked out of the room, a satisfied, contented smile on their face. Artemis had answered all the questions they asked—thank _god_ they didn't ask the all-important-question "How do dads put them in there?"—and were quite happy with the results.

Artemis, on the other hand, was resting his head on his desk and trying his hardest to make the redness in his face disappear.

He supposed he was a little relieved from not delving too much into the subject. Myles and Beckett had gratefully skimmed around the edges of the entire topic and asked questions that only made sense to them.

A sudden roar of laughter jolted him upwards.

Foaly was holding his belly and bellowing with full-hearted laughter. Even though he couldn't see her, Artemis could hear Holly howling with mirth in the background. His face turned a shade deeper as both of them laughed in synchronization.

"Is _that_… how… it works?" Foaly whooped. "I never knew… that was how… how it was… done!" The centaur was laughing so hard tears were forming in his eyes. Holly's peals of laughter had vanished, but somehow Artemis knew that she was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe.

A sudden intake of breath and another-round of hooting assaulted the computers speakers.

Artemis frowned darkly.

"_Ohh!_ Artemis! I'm so… sorr-r-r-r-y-y-_y-y-y_!" Holly's sides were starting to hurt as she curled into a ball and laughed until her face turned blue.

Artemis, tomato-faced, hastily shut off his computer.

* * *

**Authoress Note:** How'd you like it? Okay? Out of character? I think Artemis was a little too embarrassed.

And in case you didn't get it, Artemis had only minimized the video-chat he was having with Foaly and Holly, but they could still hear him and see him even though he couldn't. They heard everything.

-Gun toten Girly


End file.
